


Soviet Soulmates

by WidowStar



Category: Marvel (Comics), Marvel 616, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Marvel 616/MCU Crossover, One True Pairing, Red Romance, Red Room (Marvel), Red String of Fate, Romantic Soulmates, Soul Bond, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates, True Love, buckynat - Freeform, soviet soulmates, winterwidow - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-08
Updated: 2016-01-08
Packaged: 2018-05-12 16:29:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 7,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5672641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WidowStar/pseuds/WidowStar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Natasha and Bucky are branded as soulmates, and even after everything they go through, their love never fades.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

> This story uses background knowledge from the comics and bits of the movies.

The Red Room was made to make spies, cold women who could hide behind a facade of beauty and kindness. Natasha however, always retained her heart, despite it all.

“You are the best in there, Natalia.”

“So are you, James.” Natasha says sweetly, as she sits up from her bed. It is a rare treat for them, to be on a mission together, gathering information and killing a few politicians. It will be over in a few hours.

“You are.” The Winter Solider repeats firmly. “Truly, the best. That is why they let us work together. You can get out, you can be free, be happy. I want to see that one day.”

“James,” she turns to face him, cupping his face with her hand. “If ANY twenty-eight of us ever escape they will go mad. You will be sent after us, or worse.”

“There is no worse than me, Natalia. If you are the one to escape I will never find you, I promise my life.”

She couldn’t help but feel baffled and terrified. It is an honor that he is staking his life on her, yet, terrifying. So very, very terrifying. Love hasn’t touched her in what feels like a lifetime. Natasha kisses him deeply, at a loss for words.

“Thank you, James. Really.” Natasha says to him softly, pressing her hands to his bare chest, right over his heart.

The Winter Solider chuckles at her, “I found the sweetest, most lethal Black Widow. I am lucky.”

“And cheesy, James.”

He rolls his eyes, then sinks into their bed. She follows after resting her head onto his chest.

“Oh, you love it.” He says, shifting to kiss her temple.

“Lucky for you I do.”

He laughs, “We need to get rest. Tomorrow we go back to the Red Room.”

“Oh, you know I can’t wait.” Natasha replies dryly. “Good night, James.”

“Good night, Natalia.”

 

By sunrise Natasha and The Winter Solider are halfway back to the Red Room. Two duffel bags on their backs, and in silence they trek through the snow fall. When Natasha begins to chuckle to herself, he stops.

“What is on your mind, Natalia?”

 “I had a very funny dream last night. I was a child again. You and I had met, as children and were best friends. You were a very pretty boy. Very pretty. You helped me dance. It’s amusing, thinking of you doing ballet.”

He smirks at her, “Did I look good in a tutu?”

“Not as good as I do.”

“That is a given. I mean, you shave your legs.”

Natasha laughs and he can’t help but memorize how her blue eyes are sparkling. “Very true.”

“Tell me a story.” The Winter Solider says in English as they near closer and closer to the entrance of the bunker to the Red Room. They can tell they are close due to the muffled shouting of the Red Room’s anthem. Natasha can’t help but shudder as her throat shuts. It is hell.

 

He had asked her for a story to calm her, and show he is still teaching her English. As long as they retain a façade of a professional relationship, their love for each other won’t be found out.

“Once upon a time there was a girl,” Natasha pauses, wondering what to do with her character. “She lived with a bunch of wolves. From big wolves to little cubs, they all surrounded her and loved her as if she were a wolf herself. For a while, the girl thought she was a wolf, but as she aged she began to realize that she wasn’t. She had no fur, no fangs, and no claws. Metaphorically, she liked to believe she did though. One day, when she was an adult she wandered into the city and found a man.”

Natasha stops when beeping pierces the air, and the hidden bunker becomes visible to them. Instantly, they are ushered into the bunker by an elderly man wearing a lab coat. They share one final glance, but even that is interrupted when the Winter Soldier is taken away to be questioned about the mission. Natasha complies, giving the elderly man all of her weapons before he even asks, and takes a seat in the small waiting room that had been recently constructed. Bright white walls and two black chairs stare back at her. She takes a seat and crosses her legs over one another like the Red Room instructs.

_Be the PERFECT lady._

“Natalia, congratulations! You have successfully done your twenty-eighth mission to perfection! We have a reward for your hard work!” A voice over the intercom speaks. Instantly, she balls her hands into fists. There is no kindness here. The reward must be rabid dogs, or a madman.

The door opens to the room and she steals herself. Ivan Petrovich walks in, tears in his eyes.

“My sweet Natalia. How long has it been?”

“Ivan!” She exclaims, but doesn’t run to him like she would normally. She stands and calmly walks to him, allowing him to hold her to his chest.

Love is for children. A weakness. If she allows her heart to bleed and show emotion they will use him against her. They have in the past.

 _Do not comply with what we ask of you, Natalia. Your Ivan will die.”_ Natasha growls at the memory but hugs him back.

“It has been three years,” she answers into his strong shoulder. Ivan does not appear like he once did, dying from a violent attack. His back is strong, his shoulders are broad and brimming with life. Ivan is alive, and safe.

“Have you had to work with the _Asset?_ I have heard rumors that he is the most lethal man. Have you seen him before?”

“No, Ivan, I have not.”

“How have you been? Did you get that farm you wanted?”

The two are allowed two hours to speak, talking of everything and anything. When the two hours end, they embrace one final time, tears in his eyes. Natasha bites her lip and holds back.

“Good bye, Ivan.”

“Good bye, little Natalia.” Ivan replies, wiping tears from his face. All Natasha can do is watch as Ivan is escorted out of the room. A few minutes pass and she is escorted to her room.

In her room sits one of the many commanders of mission conduct. His handlebar mustache and decorated uniform tell her that he is not linnet. Then again, in the Red Room, who is?

“Natalia. Sit.” He commands, hardly looking up from his clipboard. She sits in her chair silently.

“Thank you for your time, sir.” Natasha says with a practiced discipline.

He grunts as a response then looks up at her. “Have you had sex recently?”

“Of course not, the mission did not call for it.”

“How many bullets did you give the politician? And his wife?”

“The politician received one in the head from my mission partner. I killed his wife, with three bullets.”

The man nods, “How long were you at the party?”

“Two hours.”

“Did you drink?”

“No.”

Natasha’s skin crawls when the man laughs at the clipboard. “Have you gotten intimate with anyone involved in the Red Room lately? Dumb question if you ask me…”

“No, I haven’t.” Natasha replies, looking directly into his eyes. Liars never give full eye contact.

“Very well. Good day to you.” The man stands and the thought of killing him enters her mind. He knows nothing but could always possibly decipher if she was lying. Killing him would make her appear even guiltier. She shakes her head.

“Good day to you, sir.” She replies, then shuts the door for him. Natasha exhales and lies on her bed, counting to herself in English. It will be a long night.

 

**Three weeks later…**

Their affair continues on as often as they can make time. They have only met once in three weeks, which is the longest they have been a part. With a soft exhale, Natasha rolls over in her bed, bored. How many times can she read Anna Karenina without going mad? How many times must she learn how to put a gun together? The repetition of the Red Room will be the death of her.

She can’t help but allow her mind to wander. She overheard that the Red Room would like to begin to recruit younger women. Children, little orphaned girls to build a bigger army.

“How can you do that…” She says to herself.

 _“IT IS TIME TO TRAIN.”_ A voice over the intercom yells. Natasha lifts herself from her bed and moves, falling in line with the other women. They are paired off by numbers and sent to the floor to spar.

Natasha has seen many pairs fight and one never get up. She is not scared to die. Not here in the Red Room, not on a mission, not anywhere. In a life like this, perhaps to some degree death is welcomed to her. It has always touched her life. Starting with her parents and ending with…

“BEGIN!”

Natasha takes a punch to the face and replies with a backhand and a kick to the groin, sending the woman backwards and cursing. Natasha wastes no time punching the woman in the neck, then with her left hand, upper cutting her.  Natasha lets out a front kick on the woman, into her stomach. A crack is heard as the woman tumbles to the floor clutching her sides and spitting up blood.

“Send her to the medic.” The same man that had commanded them to fight says.

Natasha walks back to her place in line when The Winter Solider walks onto the fighting area, his mask on his face but no gun in his hand. Natasha catches his eye and he winks at her, if only for a split second. The Winter Solider drags a man with a bag over his head into the center of the area then stands behind him waiting for instructions.

“Comrades!! We have a special treat for you. This is what will happen when you betray the Red Room. When you betray Russia.” A commander yells from beside them.

The man is unmasked. He is unshaven, shaking and looking dirty. Blood is drying on his neck. Natasha finds the man familiar but can’t detect from where he is from.

“Execution is your punishment! Of course, we like to let you think you got away. Hope is FAKE! Kill him!”

“No, please!!” The man begins to plead, fear and sorrow in his voice.  A dagger slices at his chest, then his back. The man continues to plead but The Winter Soldier doesn’t stop. Over and over until nothing but blood is left of the man.

“After his body is disposed of, you will go back to training.” The commander says coldly, then exits the room. Natasha remains silent as the room is cleaned up. Never looking away from the corpse or the blood.  She senses his gaze but doesn’t look up to him. He brushes past her, his metal arm grazing her.

Natasha breathes deeply, slowly. Pain is beginning to form on her left arm in the upper quadrant. Again, nothing. The fights continue and she pretends that nothing is wrong. Nightfall can’t come fast enough for her.

 


	2. Two

_"James!”_ His name passes past her lips in not passion but complete agony. In her room she remains loyally staring at the window, pressing a hot towel to her upper arm. It had been bleeding all day after the execution of the man. She will be seen as defective if she goes to the medic for information.

It is not a normal mark on her arm that bleeds, but that of The Winter Solider. His star on his left arm is now engraved in hers, and heavily bleeding. For moments it stops pulsing and calms down, but it mostly feels like fire. Tears form in her blue eyes and she blinks them away.

What if someone other than him stumbles into her room? The door is locked, despite the rules. Natasha moans softly, continuing to press into the star on her arm. The curtains of her window shifts slightly, and then with a deep thud and a groan James is in the room, face down and moaning.

“What is wrong?!” Natasha yells, slipping into English. Despite her agony, she falls on her knees and begins to strip him of his vest. All he can do is groan softly, looking up at her, sweat dripping down his face.

Natasha manages to coax him to his feet and gingerly pushes him into the bathroom. The door locks behind them. In the light, she can see the infamous Black Widow hourglass symbol etched deeply into his back. His whole back is covered in this perfectly straight lined symbol. Blood drips from the lines.

“I…don’t know what is going on, Natalia. Do you?” With a grimace he turns to face her. Wordlessly, she turns on the water in her tub and pushes him into it, hearing him moan in pain. The blood from his back slips into the water like paint residue from a paint brush does.

“I have no idea, James. Look.” Natasha shows him her left arm and he stares at her incredulously.

“It is so deep! Are you in pain? I can, uh...” He groans softly trying to move to give her room but ends up biting his lips and looking up at her.

“When did yours come?”

“After I murdered the man. Same with you?”

“Yes. None of these are self-inflicted and the Red Room has stopped slipping pills into our food. What could it be?” Natasha can’t help but groan in pain softly. She was taught to never make a sound, but it is impossible NOT to.

“I heard bits and pieces of some kind of mark that brands lovers… That is all I know.” He says to her, rising from the bathtub. Natasha holds a towel and carefully pats him down, making sure to mind his back.

“That could be a rumor to scare us.”

“Does it seem like a rumor?”

“No, James, it doesn’t yet, what if this IS them?”

“How could it be them?”

“What if they know about us and this is them mocking us?”

His brown eyes settle into her blue ones and he smiles, “To brand us right under own noises. How is that EVEN possible? There have been no pills, no extra booster shots. Nothing.”

Natasha’s eyes widen, “Airborne?”

“If it is airborne that means someone else must have it. Has anyone else been in pain like us?”

“No. Not that I could tell.” Natasha whimpers, grasping hard at the mark making him lean to her.

“Let me help.” He whispers softly to calm her. With a curse Natasha sits on the toilet and shows her mark to him. “Holy shit. That is what is on my arm, maybe it hurts so much because I lost mine? It could be mirroring what we have been through?”

“If that is true, then you will begin to feel worse, James.”

“Whatever the hell this is, I promise it is worth it. Alright, let me see what I can do.”

The star on her arm is not on the surface, it is as if it has been burned into the bone of her arm. The Winter Solider would never admit fear, but he couldn’t help his stomach churning at the sight of all the blood the star produces. It drips down her arm from every point of the star in thin lines.

Natasha can’t help but focus on pain in his face. The usual stoic scowl is the face she has grown so fond of. This pain, it translates so deeply in her mind. Did she look like this when Ivan was bleeding out in the street? Is this love? Natasha flinches when a hot towel gently wipes at the star. All the blood lines are gone.

“James, I will be fine.”

He glances up from her arm, “Of course you will be! No doubt in my mind, doll.”

“Doll? That is an American term.”

“Oh, huh… Well, do you like it?” He smirks playfully at her.

“Saying doll just means I am pretty like a doll, right?” Natasha hisses softly when he begins to bandage her arm with a bandage she didn’t see he had.

“The prettiest, Natalia. The pain is fading. How do you feel?” The Winter Solider returns to his feet, he had been kneeling to get all the blood.

Natasha inhales, “It is fading, you are right. James, come here.”

Loyally, he complies leaning into her and kisses her deeply. Natasha laughs when he chokes as she grabs his collar. They pull away, and it is the usual boyish bashful smile on his face.

“The pain was completely gone when we kissed.”

“So we need to spend the rest of our lives kissing?” Natasha asks with a smile.

“That wouldn’t be so bad.”

“Loverboy… alright, your turn. Let me bandage your back.”

The Winter Solider moves to the wall, spreading out his arms and legs. Natasha chuckles to herself at how naturally he positioned himself.

“Oh, don’t you _LOVE_ when I get in these positions?” He comments, throwing his head back.

“I will admit the view is to die for, Loverboy.” Natasha says, then moves to her cabinet to collect bandages. Natasha gasps softly when she sees that the Black Widow symbol is engraved even deeper in to his back as if it was just freshly cut into. Blood is beginning to color in the upper quadrant of the symbol. “Are you in pain?” She asks, her hands hovering over his back.

“Nope!”

Natasha is setback for a moment by his cheerful tone but smiles to ease herself. “That is good.”

“How does it look, Natalia?”

“The mark is much deeper but you are not in pain so we must be doing something right.” Natasha washes away the blood with a hot towel, then bandages him in complete silence.

With a deep sigh, Natasha goes to sit on the edge of the bathtub and he follows like a puppy. His gloved hand rests on her leg. “I am okay, don’t worry.”

“I just wish we knew more.”

The Winter Solider rests his head on her shoulder, “Maybe I can find something tomorrow… At least we aren’t in pain anymore.” Gingerly, he presses a kiss to her cheek and then her temple.

“You need to leave, James.”

“Huh? Why?”

“The pain will be back soon, I think. And you need time to dodge the guards.” Natasha stands and gets his vest, and without him speaking she helps him put it on. Naturally, he pulls her into his chest and looks down at her.

“Natalia…I…” his metal thumb traces the hollow of her face. “You are the best thing about this place. We will get through this.”

She smiles at him, “I know we will.” She wraps her arms around his neck and kisses him. “Be careful, my dear.”

He looks at her with a calm concentration. As if he is memorizing what she looks like for the final time. “Feel better, doll.” They kiss one final time, then move to her room. It the first time he has tucked her into her bed but it makes sense in his head.

Natasha smiles as he waves goodbye to her in the darkness from her window and in an instance he is gone. She lies on her back and exhales. Fire begins to burn from her arm. An eternity passes and then she feels as if it is being stabbed.

“Damn it!” Natasha snarls between her gritted teeth. Sweat breaks out on her forehead and she begins to breathe harshly. “What the hell is going on?!” Natasha applies pressure to her arm as hard as she can, just to feel blood seeping from the star. Out of agony, she grabs a gun and fires it into the pillow beside her, then presses it to her arm.

“Go away, go away!” She mutters, allowing the heat to calm her down. It helps, not enough for peace to enter her mind, but enough for her to try to sleep.

 


	3. Three

A sleepless night leaves Natasha exhausted and tasting her blood. Every now and then her nose begins to bleed. First it happened every four hours and now it is down to two. Exhaling, she glares at her left arm. The pain is growing.

“Natalia, why do you look so sick?” A commander asks as he sits in front of her. Her day has hardly began and she is already ready to go back to her room. Natasha’s breakfast lays out in front of her but she can’t stomach it.

“My period, sir.” She says pressing a napkin to her nose and blowing into it.

“If you are not able to get over it, you will be suspended.”

“I am aware, sir.”

The man nods, stands and walks off. Despite her disgust, Natasha shovels the thick oatmeal into her mouth. Pain shoots up and down her left arm, leaving her to moan and lower her head for a moment. Natasha finishes what she can and gets in line for English classes with the others.

Words and poems are recited, and they repeat like children. Line after line, word after word. With every passing second Natasha wants to die. She can feel the blood from the star beginning to collect in her bandages. Weak. She feels so very weak, mentally and physically. No sleep is never a problem for her, but this agony?

Hours pass like centuries for her and it doesn’t help that the whole day was dedicated to them learning English. Natasha lowers herself gingerly into her bed and glares at a clock. Eight at night.

Her arm is drenched in blood and every breath she takes taste like it. It takes her a minute, but she sees the lamp in her room is off by a few inches. The Winter Solider won’t be able to make it tonight.

“I hope you are alright... I sure as fuck aren’t.” Natasha raises herself from her bed and rushes to the bathroom, bathing in hot water. This soothes her and she manages to sleep.


	4. Four

In the early hours of the morning, Natasha was visited and told to go and get a rogue member of the Red Room. Kill him and bring the body back. She wasn’t told that the guy was on her level of fighting skills. Nor was she told that he had a collection of knives.

“Natalia, come with me, we could be free!” The dirty man pleads. His trench coat is heavy with his knives and the blood on his hands is not dry, but bleeding. He just killed a man. The high in his eyes is obvious to Natasha.

“You have committed treason to the Red Room. What good can running do?” Natasha calmly sidesteps a knife he flings at her, and ducks the others. To be fair, she returns three bullets to him, all in the stomach.

He laughs, clutching his stomach. “You are a smart woman. You know that the Red Room is using all of us. We are nothing but tools. Freedom-“

She cuts him off, “Freedom can’t be received by running. That is the truth.”

“Then you will die a tool. That is the truth.” He replies calmly, standing at his full height despite the gush of blood from his stomach. A knife in his hand, the same way The Winter Solider wields his. The star on Natasha’s arm begins to pulse, awake and mad.

“Not now!” Natasha hisses under her breath, skipping backward from a slash. She fires off her gun twice, getting him square in his left shoulder.

“You must be wounded, Natalia. Otherwise I would be dead now. Hahahaha. Perhaps I can win.”

“Don’t flatter yourself.” Natasha growls, trying to swallow the fire she feels inside of her. With his right hand, he throws a knife at her face, leaving her to duck. She sees the next attack coming too late, he charges at her shoving a small knife into her stomach. Natasha cries out, grabbing his collar and firing madly into his chest.

As he dies, his grip on the small knife decreases. Natasha blinks away the tears, spits out the blood in her mouth and keeps the knife inside of her to keep whatever blood she can inside of her body.

“Damn it! DAMN IT!” She yells, kneeling to the floor to drag his body into the alleyway. A secret door is at the end of the alleyway leading her back to the Red Room. All she can feel is the knife in her stomach, not the damn star. If she goes to the nurse they will see it. There is nowhere for her to…

“Natalia?”

Natasha turns around to see Ivan, staring at her with wide eyes. “Ivan, thank God.”

“You are hurt!” He exclaims, rushing over to her. Ivan doesn’t ask about the body, he simply picks up the man and puts him over his shoulders. Ivan puts two and two together and decides to be silence to Natasha can focus on her pain. For that, she is grateful.

 

**Two hours later….**

“They gave me all day for this mission. Ivan, how can I thank you?” Natasha asks as she lifts her head from the small bed. She is in Ivan’s apartment in the city, bandaged and safe.

“Explaining that infernal star on your arm would be a great thank you.”

“I can’t, Ivan. I have no idea what the hell it is. It aches constantly.”

Ivan turns to Natasha, giving her a piece of bread. “Did someone do that to you?”

“No. It appeared on my arm one day. After training.”

Ivan sighs deeply. “That is very odd. I can ask around.”

“That may draw unnecessary attention to yourself, and me possibly. Ivan, I can figure it out.” Natasha sits up slowly, grimacing when her arm bumps into a nightstand.

Ivan inches the nightstand away from her and smiles softly, “I owe you my life. I will do anything I can to help you.”

“Then stick around. You are a great help, Ivan. I have to get going soon.”

Before Ivan can protest, she is on her feet and collecting the body in a duffel bag the Red Room gave her.

“Thank you, Ivan.” Natasha says, pressing a kiss to his cheek. Ivan blinks and she is gone.

“Damn it, Natalia. As your father I should be protecting you, not making you risk your life.” In silence he goes to sit on the bed, and hangs his head.

 


	5. Five

Excellent, Natalia, excellent indeed.” Natasha had been called in as soon as she entered the Red Room to a room she had never been in before.

Natasha remains frozen in place when the Director of the Red Room stares back at her from his desk. The Winter Solider is in a chair next to him, chaining him to the floor. His vest is blown off his back, smoke marks and blood are all across his body. Natasha’s heart drops to her stomach.

“He has the Black Widow symbol etched into his back. We found this out by accident. When the first foot solider found out, he killed him. Then he killed the second man, the third, the fifth, and before I knew it, he had killed about twenty of his comrades. What he has on his back is called a soulmate mark. When two people fall in love and share a soul, they have this mark on their back. No other woman in our Black Widow program has a mark on them. You must be it.”

Natasha’s feet shift backwards. Her eyes land on his and he shakes his head, telling her to lie. Natasha remains silent instead. The Director stands, moving to stand directly in front of her. The Winter Solider growls, bucking forward, trying to get on his feet.

“Really, Natalia? You have nothing to say? The fact that you and this weapon have been wandering around and _fucking_ on the Red Room’s time and dime. You have nothing to say?! Rather out of character if you ask me.”

“He didn’t do anything wrong. Let him go and have me instead.”

The Director laughs deeply, his eyes becoming wild. “He _killed_ our men, and he broke the rules. Did you catch him, Natalia? He _speaks English_. You broke him. Now, you both will pay the price!”

The Director’s hand claws at her left arm, dragging down harshly, leaving blood on his hands. Natasha exhales deeply, trying to play off the pain. She doesn’t mean to look at him, but the Winter Solider continues moving, becoming more desperate.  Sudden blinding pain leaves Natasha on the floor, panting with tears streaming down her face. The Director had stabbed her directly through the star on her arm.

“James… don’t…” Natasha whispers in her stupor. “They will kill you.”

“Wipe them both and freeze him! If she fights back, cut off her arm and make it match like his!” The last thing Natasha hears before blacking out is the Winter Solider yelling back at them.

 


	6. Six

**70 years later…**

Before she can blink, the memories of the Red Room were just another life to her. Another skin she had to shed. She had successfully defected to America and almost taken down Iron Man. Natasha had become a part of the Avengers, and she had moved to Los Angeles to find herself and created her own team of superheroes for a bit. As the years went by, the myth of the soulmate mark grew and became a part of pop culture. Stickers worn by kids were considered “tattoos”, to prepare them for the future.

Not having a soulmate mark made people outliers and they were vilified. Despite being with Hawkeye and Daredevil Natasha never received soulmate marks. Hawkeye had a puppy paw on his lower back the last time Natasha checked. Daredevil had small pair of silver sais on his left wrist. Whenever Natasha fought with Elektra she tried not to get distracted by the red glaring DD on her right shoulder.

Natasha couldn’t help but laugh. Soulmate marks made people crazy and paranoid about who they were going to marry. Even though the mechanics wasn’t about a matching image but something personal, something beautiful. Natasha was fine with being mark free. She was already an outlier, what was the point?

Natasha can’t help her head shooting up when she feels eyes on her. Brown eyes. Familiar? Long hair. That is the first thing Natasha sees. The man continues to hold her gaze as he steps into a barber shop.

“Who the hell?” Natasha mutters out loud, stopping at the window of the barber shop. The man sits in a chair and gets his hair cut by an old man. The old man wasn’t her focal point. Despite the fact that he was cute, and had to stand on a stepstool to reach the man’s hair.

The man watches the barber calmly and closely as the scissors are brought to his hair and the cutting begins. For the first couple of snips, the man winces and clenches his teeth. As the cutting continues the man focuses on his breathing. Regulation. Something Natasha was taught.

Natasha’s eyes land on his heaving chest, then quickly move over to his left arm, clutching the arm of the chair tightly. His long sleeved shirt can hide his metal arm from the public but Natasha sees right through it. It is not a fashion statement that a full leather glove is on one hand but not the other. When Natasha squints, she can see how the sleeve clings to the metal arm. Her hunch is proven correct when he squeezes the arm on the chair so tightly it cracks.

“Woah! What are you, a wrestler?” The old man asks, stopping his work to pat the man’s hand. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I…my back hurts.” The man looks down, “I am sorry.”

The old man smiles, “That is okay, my grandson can fix that. I will get you a hot towel for your back.”

Natasha watches the old man shuffle off, when pain shoots up her arm. Her eyes widen and she gasps. For some, the soulmate mark brings no pain, just peace. For others, those that have blood on their hands it will be painful, hellish even. The pain will only fade with love and time. When the man screams in anguish, Natasha finds herself falling to the floor.

“You have…got to be kidding!” Natasha snarls. Blood drips from her nose. It takes all her power to stand on her feet, clutching her arm and walk away from the man. Curiosity gets to her, and she shoots one final glance at the man to see if he is alive. He is, and staring directly at her. Those brown eyes seems to gain life when Natasha looks into them.

 _He knows me. He looks familiar…very familiar…_ The man begins to stand up to greet her and she swallows hard, pain continuing to pulse through her arm.

“Natalia!” He calls from inside the store. Everything in Natasha freezes at once, expect for the pain. The pain increases becoming more and more intense. She can taste the copper in her mouth. No. The man is opening the door and tears are swelling in her eyes.

“Natalia!”

“They told me you were dead.”

“Yeah, well, I am not good at playing dead, doll.” He gives her one smile and everything is better for a minute. The pain flees her body.

“What we have is called the soulmate mark.” Natasha says calmly.

“Just like you to get straight to business. You are right.” Again, another smile. A proud one.

“Finish your haircut, and come see me.”

The man laughs at her, “I don’t blame you for testing me. You be careful out there, okay?”

“Same to you.” Natasha watches him as he goes back inside the barber shop, then with a heavy heart walks away. She vaguely remembers who he is. It will take some time for her to remember entirely who he is. Yet, she can’t help the smile on her face as she walks back home.


	7. Seven

“Faster than I remember.” Natasha comments from the doorway of her room. It has only been an hour since seeing him at the barbershop.

“You have a ton of guns, Natalia. Makes me jealous.”

Natasha laughs, rolling her eyes. “Not surprising, James. You just feel like your gun is incompetent.” She can’t help her heart beating rapidly in her chest, any moment they could come and destroy them. No, no, they can’t…

How can seeing his face just have her slip back to the old days?

“Natalia?” He is an inch away from her now, his metal arm reaching out to her. She jumps slightly when he places his hand on her face. Instantly, his eyes hit the floor and he moves away.

“Rumor had it, they wiped my memory about five times. Everything is fuzzy.”

“I’ve got time to help you remember if you like.” The boyish charm is not there, not yet. Just comfort. Natasha nods, her teeth chattering. The pain is back, shooting and screaming at her. Wordlessly, he picks her up and she doesn’t question it.

It begins again, them in the bathroom. Hot water in the tub. She is placed in it by him in silence. For whatever reason that irks her. He used to have things to say. Now, his mind is still bouncing back. It used to be scrambled eggs for about seventy years.

“Thank you. Does your back hurt?”

“It does, but I am fine.” He spares a smile at her and she smiles back. “What have you been doing for seventy or so years?”

“Murdering, atoning and becoming an American.”

“So, similar to me! Minus atoning… I guess that starts now.”

Natasha sees the smile die on his face, leading her to reach out and take his hand. “None of what you did was your fault. We have both been brainwashed to believe something that wasn’t true. We were both used. James, this is not your fault. It couldn’t ever be.”

He manages a weak smile, “Glad you got away in one piece. Natalia, if you have any questions about us or anything my mind is fresh now. I can help.”

“I….” Natasha sighs, “remember. Of course not everything, but most. I don’t remember how we met. The beginning is fuzzy. I am remembering backwards.”

The pride on his face makes her stare, “You and I were training. I trained just about everyone there, and we had to spare to assess you. You punched me the face so hard you broke my nose. You then dislocated my arm and WOULD have beaten me to the ground had I not kicked you. You were the only one to land a punch on me that day. Not because I was soft on you but because you were so quick. As for our relationship, well, I taught you English as well… things got heated quickly because you wanted to learn how to flirt.”

Natasha’s eyes widen, “And I made you blush, right?!”

“Yes! You did. Of course you excelled in flirting. In everything actually.”

“Was I your first time?” Natasha asks, a coy smile on her face. “I vaguely remember you dodging the question.”

“..Don’t tell anyone. Yes you were. To be fair, I didn’t have any free time ever. Due to the circumstances and whatnot.”

Natasha snickers, “And HOW old were you?”

“Oh, c’mon. I would say about five hundred at the time. That makes me a billion years old now. And what about you, Natalia, how old are you?”

“Twenty-eight.” The smile on her face twisted to a frown when she remembers the star on her arm. The pulsing begins again, harder than before. Without hesitation, gets on his knees and kneels beside her, pressing his hand onto the star.

“I am just going to try something, okay?”

Natasha gets a full view of his back and sees a wall of red, “You are bleeding!!”

“Most of it is dry!”

“What the hell does that have to do with ANYTHING?” To his amazement, she stands up and gets out of the tub and into the kitchen. He stalks after her, trying to forget about all the blood in the tub.

“What, are you making a sandwich or something?”

“You really haven’t changed, James.”

“I hope that is a good thing.”

“Come over here.” Natasha motions for him and with a sheepish smile he follows. Natasha tells him to sit on the counter and he does, leaving her to wipe him down with a towel and a hose from the sink.

“So, uh…”

“How are the memories treating you?”

“If I focus on you, it gets a bit easier… Your arm?”

“When we are in contact it fades enough for me not to want to die.” Natasha replies sourly.

“Did you miss me?” The words feel so innocent to Natasha’s ears. She has to move to see his face to make sure this is him. He used to cuss up a storm. Now, he seems like a sad puppy.

Natasha sighs, “Of course I did.” She can’t tell if this is a lie and it HURTS. She feels wounded so she sighs once more. “I always felt like I was forgetting something important. Very important. But I kept busy, you know, had things to do, people to kill.”

He nods and smiles but remains silent. Natasha takes this as her cue to talk, so she does, filling his head with all of her old missions and gadgets. Once in a while he spares her a comment, or a chuckle leading her to believe he is getting better.

“Do you feel better?” She asks softly. There is no response from him and she huffs, throwing the bloody towel in the skin and admiring her handiwork. The bandages on his back outline her hourglass symbol. Quietly, she moves back over him, looking him in the face. Fast asleep. Natasha bites back her smile, put him on her shoulder and places him on the coach.

She slips off to her room with a final glance and falls into a dreamless sleep.


	8. Eight

Natasha wakes late, and in minimal pain. It is so strange for her, to live so long without the damn mark and the next have it again. With a shake of her head, she wanders into the living room where she left him. In his place is a thick stack of envelopes and a sticky note on the top of them.

“What the hell have you done?” Natasha mutters as she reads the note.

_“I need time alone to put my mind to ease. Atoning. Thank you for everything. Left letters and money. Track me at your own risk. Thanks to you, at the least I have memories to visit at night. Maybe that’ll help. I won’t be too long.”_

“Oh. I thou-“

Natasha turns at the sound of Bucky’s voice. He has a leather jacket on that she hasn’t seen before and a freshly fired gun in his hand. “Figured you were off doing something heroic. It is good you are here though, I wanted to thank you in person.”

Natasha nods, “Where did you get the jacket?”

“Thrift store.”

“Fits you well, James. I understand you have to go.”

He steps forward, “Does your mark hurt?”

“No.”

“I’ve got a theory, that seeing we are kind of aware of each other and at peace with each other the pain is over.”

Natasha focuses on him, “I was at peace with you in the Red Room.”

“WE were at peace together but the RED ROOM wasn’t. So that could have triggered it, plus all the bad we did… Do you mind if I visit every now and then?” The question is sheepish. She smiles at him.

“You are always welcome here, doll.”

His smile blows her away, “You remember!!”

“You are hard to forget!”

The smiling like teenagers ends and with a stern faces they say goodbye. Natasha pretends she isn’t watching him leave. She sighs and grimaces at a sudden pulse from the star on her arm.

“Exactly what I needed. Hopefully he doesn’t get himself killed…Idiot! He hasn’t changed a bit, I’ll keep tabs on you, James.” With a sigh, Natasha walks away from the window and smiles. Her future looks bright and that is enough to smile about.

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
